Sara's Tears
by bdwoolf
Summary: January 17th, 1991. Desert Storm begins with Apache missiles flying over Baghdad. Sara O'Neill is at home alone until her father joins her to wait to hear whether Jack will or will not be returning home that day.


Title: Sara's Tears  
Author: Beverly Woolf aka GateDemon  
Comments to: gatedemon@woolfden.net  
Category: Gen, Angst  
Rating: PG  
References: None  
Archive Permission: Will be archived on Scarecrow's Dream. Yes to StargateFan. All others, please ask.  
Status: Finished  
Summary: January 17th, 1991. Desert Storm begins with Apache missiles flying over Baghdad. Sara O'Neill is at home alone until her father joins her to wait to hear whether Jack will or will not be returning home that day.  
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and the characters are the property of  
MGM-UA, Viacom/Showtime, Gekko Productions, and Double Secret  
Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
***  
  
Sara O'Neill was puttering. The kitchen had been cleaned, the floor swept and mopped, all the counter tops had been disinfected, the wooden cupboards had been polished to a high sheen, and every piece of chrome in the place reflected brilliant shafts of light where ever the sun touched. And Sara O'Neill had no recollection of doing it all. Her mind was 20 miles away where her husband was that day.  
  
Rumors are a way of life in the military and most are harmless often ignored by those wives that have spent more than a couple of years within the system. Rumors of war no matter how innocent, however, bring a sense of foreboding to even the most stout hearted military wife when those rumors are preceded by secret meetings of high ranking military and government officials.  
  
The latest batch of rumors were following the deployment of over 230,000 troops to the Gulf two months ago, and the U.N. Security Council's authorization to use all means necessary to eject Iraq from Kuwait. Jack had come home the day before and had told her that everyone was talking about how January 15th had passed, the day that the U.N. Security Council had given to Iraq to vacate Kuwait. There had been no movement of troops from Kuwait by the Iraqis. Assumptions were being made that the US would strike soon, and strike hard.  
  
When Sara had asked Jack about his involvement, he had hugged her and said that at this stage it wasn't likely. It would probably be an air and ground war. His expertise might not be needed at all since he hadn't already been called in. She wasn't to worry.  
  
But Jack would know she was worrying as soon as he came home that night to find that the house had been cleaned to within a inch of its life.  
  
Vacuum cleaner noise drowned out even thought as Sara ran the beast over the wood floors and carpets on the main floor. A sudden rattling, and a loud whine brought her out of her mindless stupor and she realized she had sucked something up in the vacuum that had jammed it. She smelled burnt rubber and knew she'd ruined another belt. She turned the vacuum off.  
  
New belts. Jack always made sure there were plenty of replacement belts for the vacuum cleaner. There was always something that she ran over that would jam it up and burn out the belt. Usually it was one of Charlie's toys, something small like a Lego piece that she somehow missed when picking up before vacuuming. Automatically she went to the kitchen and took a new belt from the stash under the sink and then from the tool drawer, she pulled out a screw driver.  
  
Functioning only on auto-pilot, she unplugged the vacuum and tipped it over onto its side. Four screws held the base plate of the vacuum on. As carefully as she could, she began the task of removing them. The screw driver turned in her hands slowly releasing the screw from its home until she could use her fingers to turn it and pull it out. She then set it carefully on the floor inside the circle made by the new belt laying next to her.  
  
She had three out, the fourth was giving her trouble. Jack must have been the one to replace the belt last time because no matter how much pressure she put on the head of the screw, it wouldn't turn. She tried again, this time stripping the slots making a ragged circular indentation in the head of the screw. Frustration boiled up and she threw the offending screw driver across the room where it hit and shattered a lamp on the end table next to the sofa.  
  
The sound of glass shattering and the thump of the screw driver as it hit the floor was followed closely by the ringing of the telephone. Heart thudding in her chest, she rose quickly from the floor and ran to answer the extension in the living room. Would it be Jack telling her that he wasn't coming home tonight? Don't let it be Jack, please don't let it be Jack.  
  
"He ... llo," she said quietly, her voice breaking slightly.  
  
"Sara? Hon, are you all right?" asked her father.  
  
"Oh Dad," she said relieved it was him and not her husband. "I'm okay. I've just been arguing with the vacuum cleaner." She tried to laugh but knew it had come out forced so she quickly stopped. She touched one of the shards of glass from the broken lamp on the floor with her toe and shook her head, silently castigating herself for her lack of control.  
  
"You don't have the TV on, do you?" he asked.  
  
"No, I haven't had it on all day. I've been cleaning."  
  
"Turn it on. I'll wait," he instructed.  
  
She inhaled quickly, feeling her heart seize up in her chest. "Dad?" she whispered.  
  
"Turn on the TV, Sara."  
  
Slowly she put the phone down on the end table next to its base looking around for the remote control. She spotted in on the sofa pushed halfway down between two of the cushions. Pulling it out, she pushed the power button and the TV flared to life. At first she didn't know what she was seeing. It was dark with greenish flashes of light arcing across the screen. Some would flash brilliantly and she could see what she thought was a skyline. There was no sound. Whoever had last watched TV had muted it. Her finger went automatically to the volume control, but paused before she touched it. She didn't want to hear right now. She couldn't hear right now. Dropping the remote back onto the sofa, she retrieved the phone receiver.  
  
"Sara? Are you there?" asked her father. "Sara, answer me."  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Have you heard from Jack?"  
  
Sara shook her head, her eyes riveted on the TV screen across the room from her.  
  
"Sara, I can't hear your head moving."  
  
"No, Dad. I haven't," she answered. "Oh God, Dad he could be trying to call right now. I've got to hang up."  
  
"Sara," her father shouted through the receiver, "I'm coming over there. I'll be there in a few minutes."  
  
Sara put the receiver back into its base. She picked the whole unit up, walked around the end table, and sat on the sofa with the phone next to her. Not thinking, just reacting, she picked up the remote control and pushed the volume button and heard the sound of muffled explosions and the voice of the announcer saying that Apache missiles were raining down over Baghdad.  
  
***  
  
Her father found her there, staring at the TV when he arrived. He walked over and sat down next to her. She acknowledged his arrival with a hesitant smile.  
  
"Where's Charlie?"  
  
"Oh, he's over at Benjamin's house. There isn't any school tomorrow so he's spending the night," she answered.  
  
Nodding Sara's father turned to the TV and they sat in silence and watched the events unfolding in front of them.  
  
"Jack may not go. He's not a grunt," her father said. "I mean if they haven't already sent him, then he might not be going at all."  
  
"I know," said Sara. "That's what Jack said last night."  
  
"Well then ..."  
  
"He knows something, Dad. He knows something that he's not telling me," interrupted Sara. "I can feel it."  
  
"Sara ..."  
  
"I know he can't talk about what he does. I know he can't give me specifics because if he did, he'd be taking a chance that I might tell someone."  
  
"Sara, Jack trusts you."  
  
"I know he does, but he can't take the chance. I don't blame him for that. I just wish it were different. What's happening right now," she said pointing to the TV screen, "is real and I wish it wasn't. I wish it was a movie, something from someone's imagination. Because if it was, I wouldn't have to sit here and worry about my husband ... worry about what to tell my son when his Dad doesn't come home from work one night. I wish he could just come out and say 'yes, I'm going or no, I'm not going'. Because it's the not knowing that is killing me."  
  
Sara's eyes were bright with tears ... unshed because to let them go would mean weakness at a time when she had to be strong, strong for Charlie ... strong for Jack.  
  
"Do you know what I do all day, Dad?" she asked.  
  
"I think I can guess."  
  
"I sit here, day after day, making up stories in my head. Stories to tell Charlie in case Jack does have to go over there. I make up stories to tell Jack about how I spent my day so he doesn't know that I've been making up stories. My whole life right now, Dad, is a story and it's not even my story. It's someone else's. Someone else knows the ending ... knows how it is going to turn out and they can't tell me because they can't take that chance. So I go on, adding little chapters, little scenes to keep my son and my husband from ever knowing that all I want is to know, one way or another, how the story ends."  
  
"Sara?" Jack said from the doorway.  
  
"Jack!" exclaimed Sara jumping up from the couch. "I didn't ... we didn't hear you drive up."  
  
Walking over to him she held out her arms. Jack moved into them putting his own arms around her, pulling her close and burying his head in her neck. He glanced up at Sara's father and met his eyes.  
  
"I'll just go into the kitchen and get a broom ... sweep up the lamp," he said motioning to the floor where the lamp lay.  
  
"No. Wait," said Jack. He broke their embrace and pulled Sara to the couch where they sat. He then motioned for Sara's father to sit down as well. "I have some news ... not good and I can't tell you everything but I'll tell you as much as I can. I wish I could tell you all of it."  
  
Upon hearing his words, Sara's head dipped to her chest. Jack's right hand reached out and took her chin, gently raising her head so that he could see her eyes. A single tear slid down her cheek to land in the palm of his hand.  
  
"Sara, I love you. I know the uncertainty of what I do worries you. I know that not knowing tears you up inside and I hate that. I hate that with all my heart because I love you. And I wish I could tell you everything. I wish I could take that worry away from you. I wish I could carry it all for both of us."  
  
"Jack ..."  
  
"No let me finish, please," he begged.  
  
Sara looked into Jack's eyes and saw the pain that she felt mirrored there. It took her breath away and when it did, her heart broke because she hadn't known, had realized that he was feeling it too. The fear, the worry ... just like her and tears burned their way out to the surface and as they began to fall, she took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded.  
  
"Thank you," said Jack softly brushing away the first of Sara's tears.  
"You have always been so strong that I've forgotten how terrified you must sometimes feel because of what I do. For that, I apologize. It will never happen again. You and Charlie mean the world to me and I know that you understand that. I know that you know that. I also know that when I go away, when I'm given a mission no matter what it is, I do it because of you and Charlie. Not that I'm trying to keep something terrible from happening to you but because I'm trying to keep something terrible from happening to another Sara and another Charlie somewhere else.  
  
"It's because of you. Every time I see you with Charlie, laughing and playing with him, tucking him into bed at night and reading him to sleep ... every time I see you holding him when he falls and hurts himself, I see a mother's love for her son and I realized that what I was seeing isn't just you, but every mother who loves a child. And that's why I do what I do so willingly. I want to give those other mothers a chance to love their children just like you love Charlie.  
  
"I didn't really have a reason for choosing the career I did when I chose it. Back then I think it was just the adrenaline rush of doing something dangerous and surviving. Of being good at it. But I have a reason now and as corny as it sounds, it's my reason and it's what keeps me going. My only regret now," said Jack taking Sara's face in both his hands, "is that I have to hide things from you that cause you to worry, that cause you pain, that cause you to make up stories to hide it from me.  
  
"Sara, oh God I love you," said Jack his voice cracking as he looked into her eyes, "let me be the strong one for awhile. No matter what it is you're feeling, tell me. No more stories. Between the two of us, let's not add any more chapters to this insane man's story."  
  
Sara's tears flowed faster and no matter what she did, she couldn't stop them. They rushed to the surface and as they did, she started to notice a change, a small change. The tears of pain and fear were slowly turning into tears of love and relief ... love for the husband and relief that she didn't have to hide any longer, didn't have to try to be strong alone any longer. She had a partner and even though he still wouldn't be able to tell her everything that she wanted to know, he would at least share in her not knowing. She wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and pulled him close, wanting him to know that she had written her last chapter in that faceless man's book.  
  
Jack held her for several minutes, held her as tightly as he had ever held her before. Then he put his hands on her arms and pushed her back so that he could see her face. He reached up with one hand and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes that were red rimmed from crying and so incredibly blue they took his breath away. "God your beautiful Sara, even when you cry," he said.  
  
She smiled at him, one hand reaching up to trace a line on his face. "I love you, too."  
  
"The three of us need to talk," said Jack, his eyes including Sara's father. "We need to figure out what to tell Charlie and when."  
  
Sara's heart started to sink, but as she looked into Jack's eyes, saw the concern for her there, she forced herself to remain as strong for him as he was trying to be for her.  
  
"What is it, son?" asked Sara's father.  
  
"I don't know when ... I don't know where, but I've been put on notice," answered Jack.  
  
"You're going to Saudi?" asked Sara.  
  
"I wish I knew, but believe me as soon as I do, you'll know. I'll make sure of that," Jack smiled. "No more secrets."  
  
Sara sighed and even though a part of her wanted only to scream, she returned Jack's smile. "No more secrets," she repeated instead.  
  
The End 


End file.
